Page 44 of The Masked Princess

She froze, but allowed him to draw her closer.

Soren was pleased to see there was no fear or hesitation in her wide blue eyes, only a tender openness that made him want to drop to his knees and pledge his heart to her right then and there. “I, for one, like you without your mask. You are far too beautiful to hide away behind carved ivory and wood.”

“My curse…”

“Is the least dangerous of your features.” He cupped her bare face in his gloved hand and gently ran his thumb over her smooth cheek, wishing for the thousandth time they didn’t need to have the cloth between them. “Your eyes could capture a man’s heart with a single look, dooming him to love you for the rest of his life.” His gaze flicked down to her mouth and back up again. “At one word from your lips, a man could find himself doing whatever you bid just to hear a few words of praise for a job well done. Your beauty could launch a thousand ships or inspire armies.”

They stood frozen in time. Annalise’s gaze traced over Soren’s face, and her mouth parted ever so slightly. She closed her eyes in one long, slow blink, and for a moment, he thought she was leaning into his touch, but then her eyes were open, gaze focused, and she stepped back.

It nearly killed him, but Soren let her go.

“You don’t know what you say. Launching ships? Inspiring armies? A beauty to enrapture a man’s heart?” Her laugh was ugly and bitter. “Such pretty words aren’t meant for someone such as I. Any beauty of mine is more like that of a poisonous flower—nice to look at, perhaps, but deadly if you get too close.”

“I just don’t want you to continue living in fear. You were happy in Murana. Do you really want to return so badly to how things were before?”

“You ask for too much.”

“I’m only asking for you to embrace your freedom while you can.” Soren picked up the bundle of sticks and followed her as she made her way around the edge of a small clearing formed by a break in the trees.

“Which means you’re actually asking me to risk everything.” Annalise shook her head as she grabbed another stick. “Do you know how I would feel if someone got hurt because of me? Either from something I did accidentally, or because my father found out that you’ve been encouraging me to break his rules?”

“Why are you still so worried about his rules? We’re leagues away from him—weeks of travel! Even if he finds out, which he won’t, what’s he going to do? King Everet has no power over you here; he hasn’t ever since you crossed Dovea’s borders. Plus, in a few weeks, you’ll be the wife of the Rhinnean king and totally out of your father’s control.”

Annalise’s hands clenched around the newly formed bundle of wood, and for a moment Soren wondered if she’d throw the sticks at him and storm off, but apparently her better nature prevailed.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, then out her mouth. “Even after all this time, you don’t understand. I know my father can’t get to me anymore. You’re right—I’m free of his influence, but you aren’t. You’re still his captain, sworn to follow his orders, which in this case means both protecting me and protecting others from me. I refuse to make you choose between whatever affections you hold for me and your duty to him. When you return to Dovea after you’ve given me away to the Rhinnean king, I want you to be able to look my father in the eyes and tell him without any guile or untruth that you discharged your duty and completed the mission.”

“I don’t care about any of that. Annalise—” He reached for her again.

“No.” She stepped back and shook her head. “Don’t say anything more. You’ve worked far too hard and were away from home for too long to endanger everything now. Please, let’s stop talking about this. It’s only making both of us upset.”

She turned on her heel and left him alone in the clearing. Soren kept his hand up for a few more seconds, imagining what it would be like if she’d waited just a moment longer. He would have taken her hand in his and told her the truth—that he loved her and that, at one word from her, he’d leave everything behind without a moment’s hesitation.

With a sigh, he let his hand drop and followed after her.

CHAPTER 34

Awkwardness cast a haze over the next several days. The easy camaraderie that Annalise had grown used to with Soren felt strained. He kept their conversations light and did his best to cheer her up and distract her from her upcoming nuptials; but every so often, from the corner of her eyes, she’d see his smile drop, replaced by a longing look that made her heart ache.

A few nights later, as they neared the end of their journey, instead of breaking off into their own smaller fires, the guards made one huge bonfire, and Soren invited Annalise to sit on a log near it.

“What’s this?” she asked.

His smile warmed her from head to toes. “Some of Captain Padrin’s men were teasing me about Dovean training and I offered to show them exactly what a Dovean captain can do. I thought you might enjoy some entertainment with your dinner.”

“Thank you for thinking of me; you’re very kind,” she replied.

His shrug was noncommittal, but his eyes danced with excitement. “Just doing my job, Your Highness.”

He brought her and Elsabeth each a stick of roasted venison from a deer shot earlier in the day. Whoever was on cooking duty had cut up onions, apples, and potatoes, and speared the produce between the slices of venison. Annalise nearly groaned as her teeth sank into the tender meat and a small rivulet of juice ran down her chin. Everyone had cheered when the hunter riding on the edge of the guard column had made the shot. They had more than enough jerky, apples, potatoes, and onions in the saddlebags for the company to eat, but there was something primal about fresh roasted meat.

Annalise devoured her stick of meat and vegetables as she watched Soren speak with a small group of men. One of them said something she couldn’t quite make out, and he threw his head back and roared with laughter. In the light of the great fire, his reddish-brown hair looked like it was made of flames and highlighted with gold.

Finally, the group separated, with Soren taking up a station at one end of the open space. Instead of their swords, each man carried large sticks foraged from the nearby forest. The bark had been stripped from one or both sides of one end—she guessed to signify where the cutting edge of the blade would normally be.

Soren carried his stick-sword in his left hand. When Captain Padrin, who was acting as a referee, raised his hand to signal the start of the match, Soren settled into a comfortable fighting stance. A small smile played around the corners of his mouth, and there was a certain energy vibrating about him, as if every muscle was poised and ready to attack.

Captain Padrin dropped his hand, and Soren leaped forward. His opponent barely had time to lift his stick to defend himself from the onslaught before Soren swept his legs out from under him and the man was on the ground with the makeshift weapon pointed at his throat.